


Kiss Me

by DuchessPoint (Watergirl14)



Category: Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-07 05:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watergirl14/pseuds/DuchessPoint
Summary: Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr!

“Kiss me.”

Gar looked down at the beautiful face beneath him, watching her eyelashes tremble with anxiety. He could feel those tremors go all the way down her body, pressed against him in the dark madness of his bedroom. It was all he could do to keep his hands flat against the wall, instead of running them over her nylons and the slender ribs under her cloak.

He took a deep breath, trying to make the fire in his stomach die down, but the cool air only served to burn her scent further into his memory. That lovely smell, like rain and tears, metal and blood, herbs and woman, so strong as she rubbed up against his leg. He could hear the clicking of his claws against each other, a nervous tick that showed when he felt like the creatures inside his heart were going to tear themselves out.

“Please…?”

Oh God, that plead in her voice, that question. Her purple eyes, shining up at him like that.

“Rae,” he started, marveling at how low his voice had become over these past few minutes, “I can’t. You’re hurt.”

She glanced down the length of his body as though she was just now becoming embarrassed by the situation. A flush came to her pale cheeks, and before Gar could stop himself he was running a thumb along the delicate bones of her face. He rather liked the contrast of green and grey, always had, but he preferred it not to be marred by the dirt and dust and dried brown blood.

Her hand looked too delicate as it came up to press against his, too slender against his calloused knuckles. Her skin felt too soft. He could smell the pain on her fingers, the cuts and scrapes from too much energy lost at once. The pads of her hands were burnt from the exertion.

“It’s part of the job description.” Raven took a breath herself. He hated the sound of it catching on whatever knot was resting in her throat. “I’ll be okay tomorrow…but only if you kiss me.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she crashed her mouth to his, clicking their teeth and catching her lip on his one exposed fang. The tumultuous primeval ball in his chest exploded at the contact, the scent of her so strong now that her hair was falling into his face. That was it, game over. Without thought he had grabbed her by the back of her neck and the curve of her hip, flipping her around and pushing her up against the wall. He had to have her, couldn’t fathom waiting any longer, needed to taste her, wash away all of her pain and grime with his hands and tongue.

She whimpered in triumph when he dipped his head to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, a sweet wet caress up to the hollow behind her ear. He could hear her breathing hard as he tenderly nipped her flesh.

“You gotta be more careful, babe,” he whispered in a moment of sanity, relishing in the feel of her shivering. God, he loved those little sighs she let out when she wasn’t paying attention.

Snaking her hand up, playing with his hair even as her body was pressed even tighter between the wall and his chest, he couldn’t see her face but knew she had closed her eyes. “I know.” She gasped when he bit into her shoulder, moaned and shifted her legs just so. Breathy (God, was there any sound she made that didn’t thrill him?), she squirmed around, trying to face him, knowing it was futile, but still choked out, “Gar, please, kiss me!”

In her fight, she ground her hips into him, and it was his turn to moan. His mind went blank, and when his senses stopped reeling he found himself shredding her nylons off of her legs in his haste to get them down. How had they ended up on his bed? It didn’t matter. Her lips were plump and lovely and they slid against his own perfectly. Beyond beautiful, the way her calves rubbed against his lower back was sublime. The feel of her ribs underneath his palms as he slid up to her chest, the fact that her shoulders were the only part of her on the bed, how she matched him kiss for kiss.

But something in the back of his mind, some alarm bell close to being drowned out, made him pull back just for a moment.

There was still dirt on her face (even though it was flushed and her lips swollen) and he remembered the injuries and the fight. Concern won out. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The look she gave him was nothing short of murderous. He flinched, and she huffed and grabbed him by the front of his uniform and pulled him back into her.

 _Careful, careful,_  his mind had on repeat.  _Take her, take her_ , too.

He couldn’t let her go until sunrise.


End file.
